Different Perspectives
by Demoninmysoul
Summary: Oneshot. The story of Harry Potter told from the chosen character(s)' perspective. Pretty close to canon, with some original detail. (I try to stay reasonable.) I may post more oneshots that follow the same guidlines with different characters.
1. The Dursleys

**1. The Dursleys**

Petunia Dursley was a simple, old fashioned woman. Her childhood overshadowed by her little sister, 'the favourite' of her parents, loved by all, brilliant at everything and beautiful on top of it. Lily wasn't a bad child, but because she was better and more than Petunia at virtually everything, it made her hate her little sister more as the years went by. Their parents did love Petunia, but she was average and that was not enough next to Lily.

Then Lily went away to school and her life became normal again, at least until she wasn't there. The letters she sent were discussed again and again at the dinner and breakfast table, showing Petunia that she just wasn't interesting enough. It proved to her, that her parents were enamoured enough to pay more attention to Lily even when she wasn't there. All in all however, her life with them was much more calm and normal while it was just the three of them.

Petunia was courted by a young man in her early twenties, and while he wasn't handsome or overly good catch, he had a job, a decent income, and promised her a comfortable if average life as a housewife. He was faithful enough and intelligent enough. Not perfect, but that didn't bother her. She married him without much of a fuss. They had an average wedding, to which her sister was grudgingly invited, and settled into a picture perfect average house.

Then some months later she got an invitation to Lily's wedding. She didn't like it, but manners demanded she go. It was a grand thing. It was amazing, magical, colourful, beautiful… It was loud and disgusting.

Lily's wedding was – if she could trust her with the information – her new husband's and his friends' doing. It was full of tropical and magical birds, illusions, and pranks. She had to tell Vernon, much to her distaste. Her mood was only a little alleviated when he shared her feelings on the matter.

Then, when she was twenty-four and Lily nineteen, he went to visit her parents to share the good news. She was pregnant. She arrived to them, including Lily sitting around the coffee table and happily chatting. When she asked, Lily said that she was only there for a bit, to share her good news. Lily was pregnant. Their parents were over the Moon. Petunia's good mood evaporated and she only stayed as long as she had to not to appear impolite. She didn't share her own news.

Her life settled after that. Petunia's parents' death at the hands of Death Eaters cemented both her and Vernon's belief. Magic only brought misery and problems. Neither of them wanted anything to do near those lunatics.

Dudley was born, and their life became picture perfect. The family had breakfast together, Vernon kissed his wife and son before going to work, then Petunia feed, played and cleaned Dudley and kept the house clean and proper. She even took care of the garden a bit in the evenings, but that was a secondary thing compared to her son and house. Then Vernon came home, they ate dinner, played some more with their son, sometimes watched TV and went to bed. It was perfect for her.

On the morning of November the first, '81, it all went to hell. She opened the door, and there was a baby on her doorstep. In the letter Dumbledore – who she only knew as Lily's school headmaster, as she heard enough of his egocentric views when she was forced to listen to her – explained that her sister was dead and that this child was her son, who had to be kept with them as his last blood relatives. It was imperative.

It made her furious.

Not only were they NOT decent enough to tell her the bad news in person, but for the child to be there so early in the morning, most probably he was here for hours, in November. And THEN they had the audacity to DEMAND that they keep the boy around. Not ask, not even give them the chance to decide, but treat it as if it was already fact. Well if they didn't care for their own, she shouldn't either.

As it was a Sunday, she had ample time to talk the issue through with Vernon. They would provide the minimal for the boy, and treat him the burden he is – after all, even the wizarding world didn't want him, to leave him on someone's doorstep. As the child had Lily's eyes, it was not hard to remind Petunia of her sister she wished never to see again. Little Harry was not abused, or starved – though he was a bit underfed – but he wasn't loved either. The Dursley parents' behaviour tipped over by his presence, going out of their way to show both boys where they stood. Petunia gave more food and anything else her baby boy desired – even if she wouldn't have done it by principle and common sense originally – while Vernon did the same, excusing any and every bad he did and exaggerating the good. They knew how Dudley was getting Harry into trouble, but just as they didn't want to praise Harry when he did better than Dudley, they didn't want to reprimand Dudley in front of Harry. They spent long nights talking about it, but left it alone until Dudley was older, reasoning that he would have to understand their point of view and as such, he'd have to be older.

Then came those cursed letters.

Just like with everything concerning magic, they had no say in the matter. They were the guardians of him supposedly, but their words were overridden by that old man. Petunia thought back frequently to her life before the nuisance was dumped on them. Vernon and she would sometimes imagine how their life would've been before falling asleep.

Sure, Harry wasn't a bad boy. He was moderately smart and was taught to be respectful, even if he didn't want to be. He knew the rules, and those were consistent. Even if he wasn't in an ideal home for himself, he was raised with iron hands. That was until the school.

Before, he would sometimes show signs of magic, and would be told that it was a bad thing. He was punished, to show him that he shouldn't do such things. He was not praised for his good deeds, but not discouraged to de well, just discouraged to show off, to gloat and expect praise for anything.

He was taught to work hard and appreciate the things he had. He worked for food and shelter like adults, but on a simpler, more easily understood way. They had a good, if cold system.

Until the school and magic intruded. Then his world was thrown into chaos. Some were worshipping him, others looked down upon him, he was in a new and weird world with no rules to ground him. He was encouraged to break rules he was given, and was shown to be lazy to fit in.

Petunia Dursley may not have been fond of his nephew, but she was responsible, just like Vernon. They despaired at the changes and already knew how his life was going to be in grave danger with those fools around him.

Petunia was glad she didn't treat the boy as a son. It would've hurt more if he was ripped away if she cared more. She didn't even want to think about the 'adventures' Harry would go through, because he sure as hell would with a headmaster steering him and his father's blood in his veins. Petunia would've been crushed every year with every report. Vernon would've had more than one stroke by that point too – if he would've been alive.

As it was, they didn't regret their actions, even if those freaks – because those who believed and used magic freely WERE freaks – made their simple life sad, stressful, frustrating and generally difficult.

In the end, they got their life back, even if they had some baggage from those times and even if it took too much time for their freedom to come.


	2. Argus Filch

**2. Argus Filch**

He was gaunt, grumpy and generally unlovable. He was the other most hated adult albeit much less feared next to Professor Snape. Now you ask, what's there to know? He's a bitter old man with a crazy cat who hates everyone and everything. His story is not complicated, but it's sad all the same.

Being born to magical parents is a gift they say. It would be true if he was born with magic himself, but he was not that lucky. Coming from a long line of little known and acknowledged purebloods, his family was not wealthy, loving or forgiving. His parents lived exclusively in the magical world and everything, even runes and potions making needed at least ambient magic from the maker to function.

At first, as a little child, he tried learning of course; trying to right the imagined wrongs he was accused with. He was good with theory, but as it became clear that he had not even a drop of magic to him, his family started scorning and punishing him in true pureblood fashion. Now, his parents weren't bad people, they didn't join any Dark Lords, but they only knew how to handle these things from their ancestors and fellow purebloods.

So Argus Filch grew up unloved and desperate. He couldn't go to a magical school and his parents would've died before he went to a muggle one. First he tried to learn anything he COULD do in the magical world. He found little, and none that could be made into a respectable profession.

Then, he – being too small to go about things on his own – roamed the small house and garden his parents owned, his only companion being their old and slightly crazy house elf.

When he turned seventeen, he tried finding a job in various wizarding towns and Diagon Alley. It took years and a lot of luck, that Professor Dippet, the then current Headmaster of Hogwarts opened his letter and decided to finally hire him.

Argus was immensely thankful at first. He finally found a job, a home and a place in the world. His desperation receded and his bitterness lessened for a time.

As the years went by however, he saw the same things daily and his resentment for the wizarding world, children, magic and his life started rearing its ugly head.

Dippet's last, retiring present to him was a cat, a companion and helper. He liked the old Headmaster, and even if he wasn't perfect, Argus couldn't find in himself to blame the man.

Few, if anyone knows, that Filch formed a good relationship with the Hogwarts house elves. As he was hired to clean and keep order on the corridors of the castle, he often needed cleaning supplies and sometimes a bit help removing stubborn stains. He wouldn't call the creatures' friends, but they had a good working relationship. Funny, how he didn't begrudge them the use of magic.

He took delight and pride in training his cat. He wasn't crazy, mostly, but as the years went by, he wouldn't be able to tell you, if he was acting or really felt such strong attachment to his pet and familiar.

Now the children in the castle were a whole other bag of worms. They were loud and careless; they had no concept of decency and couldn't point out respect if it was shoved in their faces. Yes, he hated them all. He wasn't resenting them for acting like kids, even if he took out his anger, frustration and bitterness on small things like a mud stain on the stone floor.

No, he hated them for not even comprehending their fortune. All the children in the school had magic, and treated it like it was natural. They didn't study, they pranked people with their abilities, and they hurt each other with it and flaunted their skills. They had everything he ever wanted, and tossed it around like used rags.

So he took what he could get, and hunt down those, who he could. He had meagre powers, but those small things were the ones rescuing him from crying himself to sleep, or committing suicide.

Yes, he would torture those ungrateful whelps. They deserved it.


	3. Tobias Snape

**A/N.:** I never liked this character, so I tried seeing from his point... This is how I imagine it would've gone.

* * *

Tobias Snape was not a good man, but he wasn't bad at the beginning either. Let's start at the beginning.

Tobias grew up in near poverty and as such, wasn't able to get good education. His life however turned for the better when he finally found a job in a factory. It was hard and long work each day, and it's true it didn't pay the best, but he finally had it.

Then the lightning struck. Her name was Eileen. She was just perfect for him.

Well, let me elaborate on this. Tobias was a strong man, that was undeniable, but he had 'roman nose' – some called it just big and ugly. He was teased for it, until he beat some sense into his bullies. While others run from fights, Tobias' childhood had countless fights, and consequent scolding.

His nose particularly was broken a lot of time, being the prime target for a knuckle. This habit became useless later on, when he had a job and an established reputation. But let me get back to the description.

He had a powerful built, but his skin and hair quickly became oily when he did… anything really. So he was not a bad catch, but it was hard finding someone when he worked from dawn till dusk and wasn't rich or handsome.

So he met Eileen. She was fairly plain if you asked anyone else. Tobias on the other hand saw the raven black hair, and shining deep black eyes with her fair complexion. She mesmerized him.

While he was strong and decisive, she was quiet and mellow. And just as he fell in love with her, she fell in love with him and his simple lifestyle.

Now he didn't know, but she enjoyed both the forbidden fruit of the love of a muggle, and the lack of expectations. She was expected to immense herself in the Dark Arts, and join the Dark Lord. Now it wasn't a problem so much as you might think. She liked learning and wasn't averse to the Dark Arts, but she was a brewer, a potions maker and if she would've got the chance, a potions master she would've been. With all the pressure however, she ran away. She found him and decided to stay.

His, better yet their life was perfect for the coming years. Yes, the work was long and hard still, but he had a lovely wife at home, who had supper ready when he got home and was the best company he ever wished for.

The days blurred together, until the morning sickness started and with it came the good news. She was pregnant. He was over the moon. Then it all came crashing down. As her magic was centred on the baby, it became impossible to control.

She had small cases of accidental magic. It wasn't a problem mind you. She had them when she was alone at home, and she was half asleep when he went to work, and too tired by the time he got back to do such things.

It served as a reminder however to the fact that he didn't know an important part of her life. It didn't help matters that he first saw her use magic as she summoned a pan to make breakfast.

He came down earlier than normal, intent on helping her as she was already eight months pregnant and the pan flew right into his head. He had a nasty gash on his head when he came to from the edge of the pan. His worrying wife couldn't tell him then, as he had to go to work and was already late by then.

She told him when he got home though and promised to stop using magic when he asked.

Little Severus was born, and while both of them were happy, there was this small chip of ice between them. It became worse sadly. His pay just wasn't enough anymore. Both of them became weary.

He worked even more, and she tried helping wherever she could.

Then Severus started showing signs of magic himself. The first of which was to set fire to the carpet, just under Tobias' feet. Tobias had the scars to the end of his life.

The pain, fear and fatigue led to him almost slapping his small child. He was mortified when he realized that it only failed because his beloved wife placed herself in the path of his hand instead.

He apologized with tears in his eyes, showering her with kisses and promising not to do such things ever again.

It worked for a time.

He took to drink a small amount before going home, to relax his nerves.

It was enough at the beginning.

Then one drink became two, and two slowly became three and so on.

Severus didn't remember any of this, but Eileen couldn't leave his love, even as he buried deeper and deeper in the misery and self-hate his life became.

She knew the man underneath and he mourned the day he started drinking, even as he continued. He just wasn't strong enough to stop, wasn't strong enough to control himself when drunk.

He died by alcohol poisoning, passed out at the side of the road. His soul, when freed rejoiced. His wife was free, even if she had to lose him for it, and she still had their son. His only regret was not leaving any good memories with their cherished child. He succumbed too fast, he wasn't as strong as his dear child.

But he still loved them, and he was proud of his son, who became stronger than he could ever dream to be.


End file.
